


Doing Favors

by bluebright_l, Nomme_de_Plume



Series: The Pursued, the Pursuing - AU [18]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:28:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebright_l/pseuds/bluebright_l, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomme_de_Plume/pseuds/Nomme_de_Plume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1920s AU - set 7 or so years after Eroded. What happens when Mya tries to help Theon out with his second job. Three-shot drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Task

“Come on there, Hopalong.” Mya eased the Rolls into park in the garage under a neat, comfortable brownstone on Kingsport’s East Side, hiding a smirk as Theon glared at her. She shut the car off, sitting back in the driver’s seat. “Just hang on there, I’ll help you up the stairs.” She trotted around the front of the car, looping her husband’s arm around her shoulders and helping him stand. That afternoon she’d received a phone call from the local hospital, letting her know her husband had been admitted to their emergency room. Her heart had lodged in her throat until she heard Theon yelling at some poor doctor or nurse in the background, and she’d relaxed, slumping in her desk chair. If Theon was in good enough shape to yell like that, it wasn’t anything to worry about.

 

When she’d gotten to the emergency room, a harried-looking nurse had taken her to a bed, and she’d been able to hold back her laughter for the most part. Theon lay on a narrow bed, one leg up in a sling. His bare foot was wrapped in a thick layer of plaster, and his face was scowling as he looked at her. “It’s about fucking time. Come on, get me out of this shitstand, would you?”

 

“Nice to see you too.” Mya had stuck her hands in the pockets of her light summer coat, lips still twitching. “So what happened, exactly?”

 

Theon pushed himself into a sitting position and shrugged. “We were chasing after a bank thief, the one who boosted the Iron Bank a few weeks back. We had him down at the piers and he took off for one of the boats. I ran after him, and didn’t see a rotten spot on one of the docks. My foot went right through the damn thing. Snapped my ankle in two spots, and the doc said I tore some ligaments. I’m supposed to keep off it for a few days, at least, and then see Doc Luwin.”

 

Mya clucked her tongue sympathetically and wrapped her fingers around his toes. He jumped a little, and for a split second she was tempted beyond reason to tickle him mercilessly. _Now now, that won’t help anything_. “Alright, then, let’s get you home and up to bed.”

 

It had taken a long time for him to hobble out to the car, leaning heavily on Mya’s shoulder, and now as they stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the front door, he sighed. “I’ll just sleep in the car tonight, I think.”

 

“Oh hush now.” Mya poked his side lightly. “You can do this. C’mon, I’ve got you.” Slowly, painfully, he hobbled up the concrete steps, biting his lip the entire way, and Mya pecked his cheek when they made it to the front door. “There, see? That wasn’t so bad.”

 

Theon gave her a sideways glance, his lips pressed into a thin line and his face grey with pain. “Whatever you say. Let’s just get in and let me catch my breath, yeah? Who’s watching the kids, anyway? It’s damn near seven. They’re not still at Riverrun, are they?”

 

Mya just smiled and unlocked the front door. Helping Theon into the living room, she heard him chuckle. Gendry had their three children shadowing punches into the air, correcting their little forms carefully. “Good, Rodrik, now just remember, keep your right hand up like-...oh, hi Mya, Mr. Greyjoy.”

 

Mya raised her eyebrows, amused as her children pattered over, throwing themselves against her and Theon. “Evening Gendry. What are they now, banterweight?”

 

Gendry grinned easily. “Maybe if you add all of ‘em up and double it, you’ll get a light flyweight. You need any help getting upstairs, Mr. Greyjoy?”

 

“No,” Theon responded tightly. He’d just bumped his bare toes on the hardwood floor and Mya wrapped her arm tightly around his waist while his face went the color of whey, thinking he was about to pass out. “I’m good.”

 

“Are you taking Arya out tonight?” Mya held on to Theon with one arm, wrestling out of her coat with the other. “Rodrik, honey, hang that up for Mom, yeah?” She unwrapped Quenton from around her waist and bent to kiss his white-blonde hair. The middle child at 6, he was without a doubt the shyest and quietest of her children. He’d been something of a surprise, arriving just fifteen months after Rodrik, and Mya sometimes thought his sweet disposition was the only thing that kept her from losing her mind those first few months.

 

Gendry’s smile grew, and his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah, we’re goin’ down to the boardwalk tonight.”

 

Next to Mya, Theon perked up. “There’s this spot just under one of the piers, it’s real nice and private, if you’re interested.” He glanced down at Mya. “You remember that spot, right dove?”

 

“No,” Mya responded testily, while Quenton and little Alyce’s eyes darted back and forth between them. “you never took me there.”

 

Gendry guffawed as he pulled his coat on, adjusting his newsboy cap on his dark hair. “Alright, kids, remember what Uncle Gendry told you about your form, alright? I’ll be testing you next time I see you lot.” He knelt. “C’mere, and give me hugs.”

 

The children flocked obligingly, knocking Gendry onto his rear and pig-piling him until Mya called them off. “Thanks for looking after them. Next time hopefully we’ll give you a little more notice.”

 

“Next time I don’t intend on falling through a Godd-..darn pier.” Theon said, carefully correcting himself when Mya shot him a look.

 

Mya tuned the radio to one of the kids’ favorite programs while she helped Theon up the stairs, carefully unbuttoning his shirt and easing it off, much to his chagrin. “I can do that, y’know.”

 

“I know.” Mya planted a kiss on his chest. “But I like to.” She flicked open his belt and button, letting his pants slide off his narrow hips. “Now lay back.”

 

Theon did so rather obediently, clasping his hands behind his head as she eased a few extra pillows under his broken ankle. “What are the odds of you playing Naughty Nurse Mya?”

 

She swatted at his hip, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. “Slim to none, you. You’re supposed to take it easy, stay off it for a few days and then we’ll see about crutches. And if you can manage those, we’ll see about Naughty Nurse Mya.” Mya set a glass of water on the nightstand next to him, along with some painkillers the doctor had prescribed him. “I’ve got to see about getting the kids into bed, but is there anything I can get you?”

 

Theon clasped his hands around her neck and pulled her lips to his, kissing her softly. “Just you. And maybe a club sandwich if you have a chance. With mayo though, none of that Dijon shit. And a pickle, if we have any.”

 

“...anything else?”

 

He swatted her rear. “Serve it naked and I’ll be hap- _shit._ ”

 

“What?” Mya was startled. “Is it your foot? What’s wrong?”

 

“Nah, just...gimme the phone, would you?” Theon was already reaching for it, jaw clenched as his ankle shifted.

 

“What? Who do you need to call, Robb?”

 

“No, my-... _fuck_ that smarts. My sister. I was supposed to do a run tonight but I sure as shit can’t do it now, can I.” Theon let his head drop against his pillow. “Fuck...this is a big run, too. She’s gonna have my head if she has to do it herself.”

 

“I’ll do it.” Mya said simply, and Theon cracked an eye to look at her.

 

“Like Hell you will.”

 

“I can do it, Theon.” Mya glanced at her nails. “How hard can it be?”

 

“We are not even having this discussion, Mya. It’s out of the question. It’s way too dangerous and I’m not going to have my wife out there, doing my work for me.” Theon rubbed his forehead and reached over for the painkillers and glass of water. “Just forget it, alright?”

 

“No. Listen, you’ve done this hundreds of times and you’ve never had any problems, right?” Theon’s expression grew suddenly guarded, but Mya chose to ignore it. Whatever problems he’d run into bootlegging booze for his family over the years, she had learned not to care so long as he came home to her afterwards. “And if you miss too many of these your uncle’s going to come down on us and that is not something I’ll allow. You know that, Theon, and there’s really no point in arguing.”

 

“Mya-”

 

“Hushabye. You’re in no position to stop me, so you can either accept that I’m going to do this and give me a list of where I need to go, or you can throw a fit about it and I’ll just get the info from your sister.” Mya was slightly surprised by her own bravado - part of her was hoping Theon would physically stop her from going, while another part was secretly thrilled at the idea of doing something so covert and, well, dangerous. She’d settled into her role as wife, mother, and reporter and lately, had been feeling like she needed a little jolt.

 

Theon glared at her a long moment, his jaw clenching. “I don’t like this.”

 

“I know you don’t, but we’re a team, remember?” She reached out and brushed a lock of silver-flecked hair out of his eyes. “I’ll put the kids to bed, and then where do I go?”

 

He was angry, she could see, and it was a useless, hot anger that would boil on the inside. “Just go to Asha’s club. She’ll have the addresses there.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, eyes dark with frustration. “I don’t want you to do this.”

 

Mya smiled a little. “I never want you to do it, Theon, and every night you do I’m terrified you’re not going to come home, that I’m going to get a call saying they’ve found you in the bay. I can’t even tell you how-” she stopped. It wouldn’t do to tell him of the nights she’d sobbed into her pillow, imagining his bullet-riddled body being tossed carelessly into a ditch somewhere, never coming home, never seeing his children again. She shook her head. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

 

Theon’s fingers tightened on her wrist, and he leaned past her, pulling open his bottom nightstand drawer. He rooted around briefly, and came up with a heavy, mean-looking gun. “Take this.”

 

“I have one though-” Mya glanced at her dresser and could see her small mother-of-pearl plated handgun in her purse. She’d carried it ever since he’d given it to her for their second Christmas together, but fortunately had never had to fire it.

 

“I know, but...I know what kind of people you’re going to run into tonight. I want them to know you mean business.” Theon tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “God, I don’t want you doing this.”

 

“I know, you said.” Mya caught his palm and kissed it. “But I’ll be fine.” Theon extended his pinkie, lips quirking the slightest bit when Mya hooked hers around it. “Now let me put the kids to bed, alright?”

 

The drive to Asha’s club took longer than Mya remembered, and the alleyway where she parked the Rolls seemed darker and dingier. It’s been years, though. For a moment, standing in front of the thick metal door that led to Asha’s club, she had a sudden urge to flee back to her home, crawl in bed beside her husband, and never see this place again. Before she could, though, her hand was rapping sharply on the door, and she was saying the words that would grant her access. There were rumors that Prohibition was on its way out, but Asha wasn’t about to stick her neck out and go public with her club just yet. There was too much risk involved.

 

The club was full of thick, choking smoke and the sharp juniper bite of gin, laced through with the smell of too many people crammed in too small a space, and Mya swallowed hard. Wrapping her coat tight around her, she approached the bar where Asha was working, pouring drinks with ease and a sharp smile on her face. She did a double-take when she saw Mya, flipping a dark curl out of her deep grey eyes, and her smile only grew. “Fancy seeing you here, dove.”

 

Mya’s jaw clenched involuntarily. Theon’s pet name for her sounded vulgar coming out of Asha’s mouth. “Your brother couldn’t make it. He took a spill at the docks today and snapped his ankle.”

 

Asha laughed brightly, sliding a glass of some amber liquid or another over to Mya, who ignored it. “So he sent you? I’m gonna have to have a chit-chat with him about chivalry.”

 

“No, he didn’t want me to come. I came on my own.” Mya fidgeted with the button on her coat until she felt some of the thread fray. “I need to hurry up, though. He’s laid up in bed, and if one of the kids needs anything...”

 

“Oh, don’t worry.” Still laughing, Asha shelved her bottle and waved for Mya to come with her. The last time she’d been in Asha’s office, she’d been consumed with terror that Theon, then held by Ramsay Bolton, would die before she could find him. It hadn’t changed in the years that had passed. Aeron still sat at the battered desk counting bills, and Victarion was still on the overstuffed sofa, his bulk looking awkward in the small space. They both glanced up at her as she followed Asha in, and Vic’s eyebrows raised.

 

“The fuck is she doing here?’

 

Asha swatted at him playfully, plunking down on his lap. “Be nice. Theon tripped over his own shoelaces and isn’t able to make it tonight, so Mya graciously volunteered to do his job for him.” She glanced over at Aeron, who was shooting them nothing but disapproving looks. “Uncle, there’s a list in the top drawer there of the customers for tonight. Now, Mya, it’s a short list tonight, but a lot of heavy hitters and I know you’ve never done this before, so listen closely. There’ll be men waiting for you at each location. They shouldn’t give you any trouble, but if they do-” Mya wordlessly reached into her pocket and pulled out Theon’s heavy gun. Asha blinked. “Well, assuming my brother showed you which end of that bad boy to aim, you should be alright. Now, don’t drive crazy, either. The last thing you want is to be pulled over with a trunk load of hooch.”

 

Mya rubbed the bridge of her nose, suddenly wanting to be done with this. “Do I come back here after, or...?”

 

“Nah. Give the money to Theon, I’ll sort it out next time he comes in.” Asha stood suddenly, putting her hands on Mya’s shoulders. “It’s good that you’re doing this for him. It shows dedication to the family.”

 

Mya took the list, folding it carefully while her hackles rose. “I’m dedicated to my husband, and my children. They’re my family, not...” she waved a hand around idly. “Not this.”

 

Asha’s lips quirked in a move so like Theon’s it was unsettling. “Whatever you say, peach pie. Be careful and no sneaking any profits, got it?” When Mya didn’t respond, she waved a hand. “Better get going then so you can get back to my niece and nephews. Your car’ll be loaded up.”

 

Just as Asha had said, by the time Mya made it out of the club, one of her mooks was just slamming the Rolls’ trunk shut, giving it an almost affectionate pat. “You’re all set.” He said, giving her a once-over. “You want a ride-along?”

 

Mya crossed her arms over her stomach and shot him a baleful look, one that would’ve shut even Rodrik’s mouth, and he shrugged, heading back inside. Mya climbed inside the car, fishing in the glove compartment for a penlight she knew Theon kept in there. Holding it between her teeth, she unfolded her list of locations and set off. As she drove into parts of Kingsport she’d never even seen before, she tried to ignore the twist of guilt she felt in her stomach. She knew all of Theon’s less-than-legal transactions, and she knew in any court of law she’d be found guilty of being an accomplice, but this was the first time she’s actually stepped over the line. _Well, other than Jaime Lannister’s office that_ one time, _but that was different._

 

The first address on the list was only a few blocks away from the club, another non-descript and derelict-looking warehouse. She’d no sooner stopped than the car was surrounded by thugs that’d look right at home at Asha’s club or any other. One of them rapped on the window, looking surprised when Mya opened it. “A dame? Where’s the other guy?”

 

“Couldn’t make it.” Mya kept her tone brusque and her words short, not wanting to invite any other questions.

 

The man grunted, exhaling a cloud of stagnant cigar smoke and looking at her appraisingly. “Stay here.”

“Like Hell.” Mya opened the door, shoving him aside with it. Asha hadn’t said anything about making sure her clients took only their share, but Mya wasn’t about to take any chances tonight “I’ve got to make sure you don’t clean me out.”

 

“Oh, come on.” The man sounded amusedly wounded. “Don’t you trust me?” He laughed at the look Mya gave him and nodded towards the trunk. “Alright, alright.”

 

The work was quick and efficient. Several of the thugs hefted a few of the crates out, and their leader cracked one open to take a peek inside. He nodded again, and shoved a roll of bills into her hand. “You gonna be our regular supplier now?”

 

Mya stuffed the bills in her pocket and brushed her hair out of her face. “Sorry, no. You’ll get your regular guy back.”

 

Her next few deposits were much the same and soon she relaxed, driving between warehouses and run-down buildings and soon her coat pocket was swelling with cash. Finally, she clicked the pen light off and headed for the last destination, one of the ancient palatial estates outside of Kingsport. The road took her straight past Riverrun, lights still ablaze in the summer night. Mya watched them disappear into the night, and stayed on the road heading further and further out of the city. Finally, when she thought she was about to drive off the edge of the Earth, she spotted an enormous stone mansion perched on the top of a hill. A row of lamp posts lined the curving driveway, leaving pools of weak yellow light on the gravel.

 

Mya eased the car up to the house slowly, looking around. There was no one waiting for her, no sign of life, nothing, and it made the hair on the back of her neck rise. _Asha said they’d be waiting. I can’t just walk up and knock on the front door; where are they?_  The driveway curved around the back of the house, and she decided to see where exactly it went.  She eased the car down the driveway and bit back a gasp as the headlights swept around the back of the house.

 

A clump of men stood huddled on the driveway, collars turned up and their eyes glittering like dogs. One of them separated himself from the group and strode towards the car, hand slipping into his pocket. Mya knew he had a gun in there, but as she was fumbling for Theon’s, he yanked the door open, grabbing her arm and pulling her out roughly. Mya stumbled, landing hard on the ground and scrambled backwards as the man shoved the gun in her face.

 

“Who the _fuck_ are you and what the fuck are you doing here?” The man’s voice was rough and while Mya fumbled for an answer he released the safety, jamming the barrel under her jaw. “Talk faster, babyface, or you’re not gonna look so pretty come morning.”

 

Mya’s heart lodged in her throat. “I have a- a delivery for you, that’s all!”

 

The man hesitated, looking closer at her. “What sorta?”

 

Mya rubbed her knee where she’d scraped it, cursing softly when she felt the run in her stockings. Jutting her jaw forward, she glared up at the man. She wasn’t about to be tossed around like one of Alyce’s ragdolls. “Fruit baskets from Uncle Sam. What sort do you think?”

 

“Wait you’re from _them_? The Greyjoys?” The man took a step back while his cohorts chortled. Now that he didn’t his gun jammed in Mya’s face she was able to get a look at him. His face reminded her of Brutus, their beloved bulldog. Thick and jowly, his hair was sparse and what was left of it was plastered to his head. His fingers were thick and meaty, with a gaudy pinky ring jammed on his right hand. His speech was thick, as if he was trying to speak around a mouthful of hot oil, his eyes dark and piggish. “How do I know you ain’t tryin’ to pull a fast one?”

 

Climbing to her feet Mya pushed down the urge to crack this man across his jaw with the butt of Theon’s gun. _Oh for Pete’s sake._ “Buddy, if I wanted to play this game I’d play it with my kids at home. Alright, fine. You don’t want what you’re paying for, then you gentlemen have a good night.” Mya brushed her coat off and turned to climb back in the car. The man seized her again, this time pushing her rather roughly up against the side of the car and when she tried to push away, she felt the barrel of his gun nestle through her hair. “Get _off_ of me!”

 

“Hold still, sweetheart, this’ll only take a sec.”

 

“What-” The man knelt behind Mya, running his sweaty hands up her legs roughly, skimming high over her stockings. His fingers dug into her thighs and rear before he stood, and clasped his hands hard on her sides. He gripped her breasts tightly, running his thumbs over them and chuckling low in her throat. Mya was mortified, frozen and barely able to speak. “Exuse me, just what the Hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

The man gave her a lecherous smirk, looking her over. “Just makin’ sure you ain’t a cop.”

 

“Oh I’m sure, because the Kingsport PD has so many lady cops.” Mya adjusted her coat, downright angry now. How dare he put his hands on her? _If Theon finds out he’ll kill him._ “Just take your load and let me get out of here.”

 

“Just hang on a sec. Maybe I was a little aggressive,  and for that I would like to extend my apologies.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Why don’t you come inside, let me pour you a drink.”

 

Mya snorted. “I would rather have my teeth pulled. Give me my money. Now.”

 

The man waved a hand to his cohorts, and they shuffled forward to empty out her trunk. Once they’d disappeared around the back of the house, he took a step closer. He loomed over Mya and she took a step back, only to realize she was pinned between him and the car. “Now listen here, babyface, we got off on the wrong foot here, but can you really blame me? I’m used to seein’ this other mook, some scrawny little beanpole with a serious attitude, and all of a sudden here comes you. What’s a guy like me supposed to think, hm?” He leaned in a little closer, resting one arm on the car alongside her and giving her a once-over that left no mistake about his intentions. “So like I says, come in. There’s a nice fire going, we could get to know each other. Whadaya say?” He chucked her under the chin, and that was his mistake.

 

In a fluid move that surprised even her, Mya drew the Theon’s gun and pressed the muzzle against his groin. She saw his pupils shrink to pins when she released the safety, and smiled sweetly. _God almighty, Mya, what are you doing?_ “I say you give me what you owe, and I’ll drive that car right out of your life.”

 

He went to grab for her wrist, and Mya tried to twist away. In the confusion, there was a loud ‘Pop!’. The man lurched, shouting wordlessly and shoving Mya away from him. “Son of a bitch! You shot me, you little whore!”

 

Mya’s eyes widened, the bottom falling out of her stomach. This was bad, this was very, very bad. _Theon was right, you shouldn’t be out here doing this._ “Wh- where? Let me call a doctor-” She reached out to him only to have him shove her arm aside. “Please-”

 

The gunshot had brought the mobster’s lackeys running, guns drawn, and Mya’s guts turned to liquid. Her hands suddenly felt as though they were made of clay, and she nearly dropped Theon’s gun as she stuffed it back in her pocket. She held up her now-empty hands. “I didn’t mean- I’ll call a doctor, take him to the hospital, please-”

 

“Fuck your doctors!” The mobster spat. “You shot me in the Goddamn foot, you cunt! Here, take your fucking money and get the fuck outta here, you got it? I swear to Christ, I ever see your face again you’re gonna get yourself beaten ugly!” He looked at his foot, oozing blood out the toe and grimaced. “Fuckin’ Italian leather, you know that? Handcrafted. I swear to Christ I oughta plant one in your skull right now...” Still muttering, he flung a wad of bills at Mya and limped towards the house, leaving a long smear of blood behind him. One by one his men followed him, casting dark looks at Mya, who was still rooted to the spot in terror.

 

After he slammed the door, Mya just stood in the driveway for a moment, her own knee still oozing and her heart racing. The night seemed unnaturally quiet. There was no breeze, no crickets, no night noises of any kind. _Go,_ Theon’s voice sounded in her head. _Go now before he changes his mind._ The thought of this hulking, bleeding, angry man coming after her spurred Mya into action, and she scrambled back into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition and flooring the accelerator. She very nearly missed a turn in the driveway and felt the tires skid across the lawn a bit. Gripping the gearshift like her life depended on it, she manhandled the Rolls back onto the main road and tore back towards downtown Kingsport. She forced herself to take a deep breath and remove her foot from the accelerator, reminding herself of Asha’s warning about reckless driving. _You won’t be able to explain what you’re doing out here in the middle of the night. Calm down, now. What’s done is done._

 

The city had never looked so beautiful as it did that summer night, and a she drove through the winding streets, her grip on the steering wheel eased. Finally, she was pulling past the small bakery she and the kids would stop at for sweets some days and where Quenton was developing a serious crush on the cashier, and the park where they’d let Brutus waddle around and finally, there. _Home._ Stopping the car long enough to haul the garage door up, Mya eased the Rolls in and shut it off, sitting for a second in the stillness. _You did it. You did it and you came out unscathed and you only accidentally shot off a mobster’s toes._ Running a slightly trembling hand through her hair, Mya suddenly wanted nothing more than to see her children, her husband, Hell, even the cat. Pulling the garage door down, she trotted up the stairs and, once in the house, slipped off her shoes.

 

Mya crept up the stairs quietly, pushing open the boys’ room first. Rodrik was sprawled half-in, half-out of bed as usual, mouth open slightly and his blanket tangled around his legs. Mya smiled, spreading the sheets back over him, brushing his hair back when he mumbled something in his sleep. She kissed his forehead and turned to Quenton. He was his brother’s polar opposite in nearly everything, sleeping included. Whereas Rodrik was spread out like an octopus, Quenton was curled neatly into a little ball, wrapped around a well-loved teddy-bear Robb and Roslin had given him when he’d been born. He didn’t even stir when Mya kissed his hair, just snuffled a bit as Mya tugged the door shut behind her.

 

The door across from theirs was Alyce’s, a bastion of everything pink and white and frilly. Mya admitted she’d gone a bit overboard when her girl was born, but four years later she regretted nothing. All she could see from Alyce was a shock of black hair on her pillow. Mya brushed a hand lightly over Alyce’s head, and the girl stirred. “Mama, what’re you doin? I sleepin’.”

 

“I know, baby. I’m just tucking you in.” Mya smiled and pecked Alyce’s hot little cheek, pulling her blankets up. “Now go back to sleep.”

 

There was still light spilling out underneath her own bedroom door and sure enough, Theon lay with a hand propped behind his head, the other holding the late edition of the _Lantern._ He looked up when she entered, and she knew she wasn’t imagining the relief on his face. Chucking the paper aside, he pushed himself into a sitting position. “How’d it go?”

 

Mya shrugged and tossed him the roll of cash. “Not too bad. I think your customers missed you.” She hung her coat on a hook by the door and unbuttoned her dress, tossing it in the laundry. She sat on the edge of the bed nearest him, leaning into his touch as he unhooked her bra. “Ugh, thank you.”

 

“My pleasure.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades. “So no one gave you any trouble?” Theon rested his chin on her shoulder as Mya tugged off a stocking, hissing when the silk threads stuck in her scrapped and bloody knee. “What happened there?”

 

“Um...nothing major. I just...” Mya tossed her stockings off and stretched out next to Theon in nothing but her underwear. She tried to keep her voice casual, but couldn’t hide the slight quiver in it. “I may’ve...shot one of the clients...”

 

Theon bolted upright, making a pained noise. “You did _what?_ Which one? And why?”

 

“The last one on the list, I don’t know his name.” Mya bit his lip. “And it was only a little.”

 

“How the Hell do you shoot someone ‘only a little’?”

 

“It was just in his foot! I swear, he was walking when I left!” Mya hugged a pillow to her naked chest. “He was awfully cheesed off about it.”

 

Theon buried his face in a hand, groaning. “Mya, sweetheart, you realize you just shot one of the most connected and most temperamental gangsters this side of Sicily? What were you _thinking?_ ”

 

“He was getting fresh!” Mya retorted. “He dragged me out of the car, tossed me down like a sack of barley, and then he ‘frisked’ me to make sure I wasn’t a cop. Me! A cop!”

 

“So you shot him?” Theon’s eyes glinted from between his fingers. “Just for thinking some strange girl he’s never seen before might be a plant?”

 

“No.” Mya said, “I shot him, on accident, mind you, when he tried to get me to go inside with him. And even that, I didn’t mean to do. He just...grabbed my hand and it all went so fast after that.”

 

“Wait, he tried to get you to-” Theon propped himself up on an elbow now. “And you said he- Mya, he put his hands on you?”

 

“How many painkillers did you take? Of course he put his hands on me. What’d you think he frisked me with, his elbow?” Mya was suddenly exhausted and growing irritated. “And he took his merry time with it, too. Got further with me than you did on our first date, that’s for sure.”

 

Theon’s lips pressed themselves into a thin line. “I’ll kill him, I swear to God.”

 

“No you won’t.” Mya planted a finger over his lips. “Don’t go starting a mob war on my account. He doesn’t even know my name so we can just...forget any of this ever happened, yeah?”

 

Theon muttered and tugged the pillow away from her chest, staring at her as if he could see the mobster’s fingerprints on her skin. “I can’t let this sit.”

 

“You have to, Theon.” Mya draped a hand over his stomach. “Listen, it’s no big deal. He’s never gonna see me again, and he doesn’t know I’m yours. He got his booze, Asha’s going to get her cash, and we’re all going to live happily ever after. Got it?”

 

“You shouldn’t have gone. I know that man. I could’ve handled him.” Theon tossed the newspaper on his nightstand and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

 

“You wouldn’t have had to. He wouldn’t have had his hands all over your- nevermind.” Mya stopped when she saw Theon’s eyes flash. “Let’s just go to sleep, alright?”

 

“I swear to God if I could get out of this bed...”

 

“You can’t, bub.” Mya kissed his chest. “And I don’t want you up all night fantasizing about revenge, you hear me?”

 

She could see the muscles working angrily in Theon’s jaw, but after a long minute he nodded stiffly. “Fine. You’re back, it’s done. I’ll work it out with Asha tomorrow.” He took a deep breath, and deep down Mya knew he was still going to tussle with the man in some way. Theon had a tricky definition of ‘honor’, and it was going to get him in trouble someday. He flicked off his bedside lamp, and rested his chin in her hair. “Mya?”

 

“Yes, dove?”

  
“I kind of still want that sandwich.”


	2. The Repercussions

Asha ground her teeth together as she prepared a whiskey sour, listening to the thick-tounged nattering filling her club. It was coming mainly from one man, one who she knew only by his last name. Castellano. He was surrounded by his usual gaggle of yes-men, and had snagged poor Roz. Castellano had tucked a hand down the front of her dress and Asha could see him stroking her breast like a cat. Roz shot her an exasperated look, but Asha just shrugged. The hooker was going to get paid well for her time, she knew. _And let’s be realistic. Castellano isn’t the scummiest thing she’ll have had between her thighs._

 

“So then I says to her, ‘Babyface, I ain’t got time for you right now and besides, I got a dame waitin’ for me.” Asha watched in the mirrored backsplash as Castellano gave Roz’s tit a squeeze. He shifted in his seat and grunted, glaring at his plaster-wrapped foot. “So she gets all sorts of cheesed off and the cunt blows off three a’ my toes!” Castellano tossed back another drink and Asha rolled her eyes. _You gonna tell them about the part where you just about pissed yourself and ran away from a gun-toting little girl?_

 

When her baby brother’s little wife had turned up several nights prior Asha had nearly burst out laughing. Sweet little Mya, looking about as out of place as Roz would’ve in a church, asking- no, _telling_ her that she was going to do Theon’s run that night? At first Asha thought it could only end in federal indictments, but the more she thought about it, the more at ease it put her. Mya had proven herself as being completely devoted to Theon, something that had come as a surprise. When she’d first seen her little brother strolling along the boardwalk all those years ago, his arm slung around a simpering little hayseed, she’d figured it was just a fly-by-night thing, and that he’d be done with her by midnight.

 

The more she saw them together, though, the more she liked it. Theon hadn’t had an easy childhood - growing up under their father’s thumb was no easy task, and then when the feds had finally brought him down...Asha still didn’t like to think about it. Theon had begged their father not to send him away, to keep him on Pyke. He _belonged_ there, he’d said, it was his home. But Balon may as well have been made of stone as he watched Eddard Stark take his last son from him. It had been a long time before she’d seen him again and when she had, the change in him had been remarkable. Theon had been something of a quiet boy, a little shy around strangers but prone to fighting in school and now, here he was all grown up. His grin was sharp and cutting but his eyes had been guarded - despite the comfortable life he had with the Starks, he was reminded every damn day that he wasn’t fully one of them, a feeling Asha only partially understood. She, at least, had had the good luck to be raised among her own people. Despite being surrounded by people that seemed to give half a damn about him, Theon was alone.

 

 _Except for Robb Stark, anyway._ Asha knew deep down she shouldn’t feel the resentment she did, but it was rooted too deep to get rid of. There was nothing for it, though, and Theon did seem fiercely protective of Stark. It was strange, but Asha was in no place to question it. It made sense that someone with so little would cling desperately to what he could, or who he could. Asha still remembered the night she’d seen Theon and Mya at the Blue Room, the look on his face as she’d tucked her head under his chin. He’d been smitten, and he was the only one in the room that couldn’t see it. Asha had worried briefly that this mountain stock girl was using her brother, but those fears were quickly quashed. She wasn’t sure Mya knew _how_ to use people, at least not then. She’d proven herself to be more down-to-Earth and stronger than Asha had anticipated, especially during the nasty business of getting Theon to take care of Mace Tyrell. She hadn’t cried, hadn’t begged, hadn’t made any foolish attempts to get off Pyke. She had simply waited, albeit in a bit of a bad mood, and had had faith that Theon would do what he needed to.

 

And then Ramsay Bolton had come along and even years later, it still made Asha’s blood race hot with anger that someone would dare lay a hand on her brother the way Bolton had. It had been one of the longest weeks of Asha’s life, wondering where Theon was and secretly terrified she was going to be the last of Balon Greyjoy’s children before all was said and done. Asha vividly remembered the look on Mya’s face when they’d found Theon, white and terrified in those moments before they knew if he was alive or not, and the way she’d stayed with him in the hospital afterward. There was unmistakable love there and at the risk of feeling mushy, it gave Asha no small amount of comfort to know that there was someone looking after Theon when he needed it most.

 

Asha shook herself out of her thoughts, tossing back the drink she held. She had half a mind to tell the club’s patrons what had really happened with Castellano, how it had been him trying to get into Mya’s panties, and how he’d been shot tussling with a wisp of a girl, but no. Public humiliation wasn’t how Greyjoys dealt with insults.

 

She strode down a short hall into her office, shutting the door firmly behind her and stretching out on the sofa. The leather creaked under her as she kicked off her shoes, and she reached behind her for the phone. _It’s what, four?_ Asha tried Theon’s desk, pleased when he picked up.

 

“Why don’t you stop by tonight? Mya’s little buddy from last week is sayin’ some things that...well, you’re not going to like.” Asha examined her nails, grinning to herself as she imagined her brother’s reaction. She knew he never had many friends or loved ones growing up the way he did, but the ones he did have he clung to tightly.

 

“Like what?” She heard Theon’s chair creak as he straightened in his chair, heard the careful tension in his voice.

 

“Just come down after work.”

 

“Yeah, alright.” Theon sighed. “I gotta pick up the girl from ballet first and then I’ll be down.”

 

By six-thirty the club was hopping, and Asha was pleased as punch. Every drink she slid down the bar was more money in her kit, and it would keep Euron off her back for a bit longer. Her uncle was still living it up in Europe, but that didn’t stop him from checking in on the family regularly.  Asha spied her brother limping through the crowd, leaning heavily on a cane, and she snickered. _Can’t even run down a dock without fucking up, can you, baby brother?_ She waved him over and handed him a tumbler, leaning on the bar. “So how good can a four-year-old be at ballet, anyway?”

 

Theon shrugged, swallowing the whiskey. “Hell if I know, but she seems to like it. Mya thinks she likes the costumes. So where’s Castellano?”

 

Asha nodded towards the same corner. Roz was still on his lap, but she appeared to be dozing off now. Castellano was at least three sheets to the wind now, though, his face red and sweaty as he laughed obnoxiously, taking every opportunity to steer the conversation back to the little bit of calico he’d so valiantly turned down the week prior.  Theon listened for a moment, keeping one ear cocked towards the man, and Asha watched his face carefully. For the most part, Theon was able to keep a pretty good poker face, but only if you didn’t know him. Asha watched the muscles in his jaw work, saw the way his eyes hardened and she stood back. “He’s been goin’ on like that for a few hours now.”

 

Theon turned those steel grey eyes on her. “And you didn’t stop him?”

 

Asha shrugged. “It’s not my place, baby brother.” She saw his tongue tracing the edges of his teeth as another round of raucous laughter broke out, and he turned to cross the crowded bar.

 

Castellano barely gave Theon a second look until he spoke. “You wanna watch what you say there, pal?”

 

This got him a look. Castellano took a long pull on his cigar, blowing the blue-grey smoke into Theon’s face. He recognized Theon, though as anything more than the driver who delivered his weekly booze or not was unclear. “What’s it to you?”

 

“Because it’s my wife you’re talking about.” Theon shifted his grip on his cane, and Asha wondered if he was about to slam it across the older man’s jaw. She wouldn’t blame him. Castellano was only still alive because he was a good source of income for Euron. If it wasn’t for that her uncle would’ve had pieces of him buried all over the northern woods years ago.

 

Castellano’s unruly dark eyebrows arched, and he he grinned. “Go on, kid,” he patted Roz on the rump and she started awake. Tucking a roll of bills in her cleavage, he winked. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Be sure you clean yourself up before I get here. I don’t wanna be fucking with some other man’s leftovers on my cock.” He returned his attention to Theon an gestured to the low sofa where he sat. “Pull up a seat then, boy. Why’d you send your piece to do your work for you?”

 

“That’s nothing that concerns you. Now, you wanna shut your trap or do you want me to tell all your buddies here what really went down?” Theon’s back was ramrod straight, and his hand was twitching. Asha knew it was eager to get to his holster and while she still wouldn’t blame him, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The last thing she wanted to do was arrange to have this fat mook’s brains cleaned up off her silk wallpaper. It was expensive.

 

Castellano’s smile fell slowly, like oil slipping off water. “I think what really went down is what I really said, _buddy_ , and I think there’s not a Goddamn thing you can do to convince them otherwise. Now why don’t you go hobble back home to your little cunt and let me and my friends here be, yeah? Unless you want me to pay her a little visit?”

 

Asha grit her teeth again. Theon had quickly grown just as protective of Mya as he had of Robb, maybe even more so, and she knew the only worse thing Castellano could’ve done would be to threaten one of Theon’s kids. As it was, Theon’s hand slid into his suit jacket and Asha tensed. She had her reliable sawed-off beneath the bar, of course, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to shoot fast enough to keep the five other men off him. _Be smart, Theon._

 

“Keep your mouth shut about my wife, and we won’t have any other problems, got it?”

 

Castellano sneered. “Whatever you say.”

 

After another tense moment Theon turned away from the group of men, and his eyes sought out Asha’s. She jerked her head towards her office and he gave a small nod. Castellano had made his bed, and Theon was going to make him lie in it.

 

“Mya doesn’t want me to get involved with him.” Theon said. He sat carefully on the leather couch, resting his head along the back of it and propping his ankle up on a coffee table.  “She wants to let it lie.”

 

“She’s soft.” Asha perched on her desk, crossing one leg over the other and jiggling it. She had half a mind to march straight back out to the bar and plug Castellano full of lead, witnesses be damned, but she stopped herself. He wasn’t hers to kill.

 

Theon shot her a look. “She’s not-”

 

“She is.” Asha held up a hand to cut him off. “It’s not a bad thing, y’know. It doesn’t mean she’s not strong, it just means she thinks with her heart more than you or I do.”

 

Theon looked partially pacified, but still angry. “I won’t let him get away with it, Asha.”

 

“Of course you won’t. Tell you what. Stop by the Iron Victory on Tuesday afternoon. Three o’clock, say.”

 

“Why?”

 

Asha smiled. “We’re not going to let him get away with it.”

 

\-------------

 

“Remind me why you’re using my boat again?” Victarion was slightly grumpy Tuesday afternoon as Asha parked her little breezer at the docks. It was a glorious summer day, balmy and warm with a breeze coming in off the bay. Asha had a jaunty spring to her step as she led her uncle towards the docks.

 

“It’s bigger. And I just had mine cleaned. Now c’mon, the fat man’s waiting.” Asha started down the docks, inhaling sharply. She loved the sharp salty tang of the ocean more than any perfume or flower. When she glanced over her shoulder, Asha saw a long, low car parked at the far end of the marina’s parking lot and it was all she could do to keep from laughing as she approached Victarion’s boat. Pushing a black curl out of her eyes, she hitched up a false, charming smile at Castellano, who was leaning his impressive bulk against the bait shop at the far end of the pier. He leaned heavily on a walking stick, his foot still heavily bandaged.

 

Castellano raised a hand in greeting, chucking the remainder of his cigar into the black bay waters and adjusting his fedora. “Fuckin’ took you long enough. I’m a busy man, y’know.” His eyes skimmed over Asha’s long legs and short skirt, and she swallowed a shudder of revulsion. _Give me Vic any day._ He was a few steps behind her, and her stomach fluttered at the recent memory of him working between her thighs. _Keep it together now. Get him on the boat and it’s smooth sailing from there._

 

“Got caught up in traffic.” She gestured to the _Iron Victory._ “Shall we?”

 

Asha heard Vic’s quiet grunt of reproach as Castellano  hobbled onto the boat, causing it to list heavily toward the dock and scrape the hull. He spat into the water and leaned against the cabin door, arms crossed. Despite the warm summer day, he was wearing a dark wool suit in an attempt to look intimidating, Asha thought, but in all reality he just looked hot. Sweat dripped down his red face and made a ring around his collar. “You really lookin’ to sell this heap?”

 

Out of the corner of her eye Asha saw Vic’s own eye twitch irritably and she gave him a look to keep quiet. “Looking to upgrade. She’s far from a heap though. Uncle, get us out of the bay and then let Mr. Castellano take ‘er for a spin, yeah?” Victarion just shot her another look and she refrained from patting his arm reassuringly.

 

The ride out of the bay was smooth today, the water slapping against the polished hull. It threw glints of sunlight into Asha’s eyes and danced in the silver streaks in Victarion’s hair, and not for the first time she wished they had the boat to themselves. But no, she had a part to play, at least for the time being. Sitting next to Castellano, she crossed one leg over the other, giving a glimpse of a long, stockinged thigh. His grin grew, and Asha swallowed hard at the sight of his yellowed, uneven teeth. _Nasty pieces of work like this are Roz’s department, not mine._

 

“So you come with the boat there, sweetheart?” God his breath stank, but Asha managed to keep a coy smile up.

 

She rested a hand on his ham hock of a thigh, stroking it idly. “That all depends on what your offer is.” _For God’s sake, Victarion, get this beast up to speed before I jump off._

 

“I want you to send that pretty little babyface next time you send my shipment, you hear?” He smirked and slung an arm along the back of their seat. “I’m gonna give her a tip she ain’t gonna forget next time I see her, that’s the truth.”

 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Presently Vic drew back the throttle, and Asha helped him throw out the anchor. He didn’t need help, per se, but Castellano’s hand had been creeping steadily higher on her thigh and Asha’s skin was crawling. Vic glanced down at her as she adjusted a line, his face carefully blank. “You ok?”

 

“Please.” Asha rolled her eyes. “I could eat him for breakfast.” She winked and turned back to Castellano, strolling across the deck and rolling her hips. “You wanna see the cabin? Just refurbished last year.” When his eyes flicked to Vic, she laughed. “He’ll stay out here, baby, don’t you worry.”

 

The fat man was all too eager to follow her, and the second the cabin door shut he grabbed her waist greedily, steering her towards the bed. “Oi!” Asha was caught off-balance and went tumbling face-first into the blankets, and the scent of Victarion was on them. She heard Castellano lowering his fly and threw herself to the side. By the time her eyes adjusted to the darker interior of the cabin, she could see Theon in the corner behind the door, eyes glinting as he took a silent step forward. _He was always good at that, sneaking around when he needed to._ In a swift move he raised his cane and gave Castellano a swift, wet-sounding thwack over the head with it.

 

The mobster yelled and stumbled, his hand flying to a gash on his head. It wasn’t deep, but it was bleeding profusely. He looked from her to her brother, jowls flapping uselessly. “The fuck is this?” Asha climbed off the bed, straightening her dress and brushing her hair out of her eyes. The door opened again and Victarion filled it, arms crossed over his massive chest. Asha didn’t doubt Theon could finish his task, but something about Vic’s bulk was comforting. She nodded at Theon. This was his show now.

 

Castellano was still confused, piggish eyes rolling from one person to the next. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing? I’m gonna have my boys burn your entire ratshit club to the ground, you got that? And when they’re done with that, don’t think I don’t know where to find you-”

 

Theon gave another casual swing with the cane, this time across Castellano’s jaw. The bone cracked resoundingly, sending a gout of blood to the floor with a few teeth. Theon leaned against the bar, and Asha saw him still trying to keep weight off his injured ankle. “I told you to keep your  mouth shut about my wife, didn’t I. Probably shouldn’t threaten my sister, either.”

 

Castellano spat another mouthful of blood out, and Asha saw where his jaw was already swelling. When he spoke, his speech was slurred, but still understandable. “Oh, so you’re a big man now? And here I thought you were the family bitch, running wherever they point. Y’know what, I bet you’re scared your little wifey’s gonna come back just to see what a real man can do to her.” He laughed, wiping blood off his chin. “She wouldn’t even be able to feel your little pecker after I get to her.”

 

“That reminds me,” Theon gripped the cane like a bat, eyeing Castellano’s shins and Asha remembered seeing his name in the papers years ago after he’d helped lead his high school baseball team to victory after victory. “She told me you ‘frisked’ her. You _touched_ my _wife_.” He punctuated his words with vicious-looking swings, and Asha could hear the man’s shinbones crack in a handful of places while he squealed in pain. “I gotta say, that was a poor choice.”

 

The way his shins bent in the middle made Asha’s stomach churn just the slightest bit, but the mobster was still laughing. “You bet your ass I did and I gotta say, she’s got a firm little body still. How many little brats you squirted into her? I bet she’s still tight as a-”

 

The head of the cane sunk into his bloated stomach this time, and Castellano doubled over, coughing before Theon smashed the head of it into his nose in a sickening spray of blood and bone. Theon looked down at him with distaste and Asha could see him thinking. After a long minute he turned thoughtfully to Victarion. “You got any chains?” Vic nodded. “Good. Bring ‘im out on the deck.”

 

The smile had long since fled off of Castellano’s face and he glanced from Theon to Vic. “Wait, what’re you gonna do? C’mon now, I wasn’t serious about your wife. Tell ya what, I got a box of Cubans back at my house, whadaya say we split ‘em and forget this whole thing? Hey!” He glared at Vic as he grabbed his arm and started hauling him out on deck again, forcing him to try and walk on broken legs. “Jesus _God_ man, lay off, will ya?”

 

Theon watched passively, standing aside to let Vic by. Asha stood next to Theon, a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, y’know. He crossed a line the second he touched Mya.”

 

“I know,” he replied. “She’s not gonna like it though.”

 

Asha just shrugged. “She’ll get over it.”

 

Out on the deck, Vic had deposited Castellano next to a large pile of anchor chains. Asha gave Theon a gentle push and he hobbled out, the wind tugging at his shirt and hair. Kneeling carefully, he picked up the chains and started wrapping them around Castellano’s legs. He seemed to take no great amount of care to spare him any discomfort, and the fat man was having a hard time not openly weeping as Theon wrenched his legs this way and that.

 

Asha stood back and let him work, and Vic rested his hand at the nape of her neck. “It’s right, what he’s doing. I’ll make sure to tell Euron about it tonight when he calls. He’ll be pleased. Pissed off about losing a client like this, but...” Vic shrugged. “‘s no hair off my ass.”

 

Letting herself lean back against his solid bulk, Asha smiled. “Make sure you tell him the whole story. Mya’s part included. He might think it’s amusing.”

 

Vic grumbled a little. “The boy shouldn’t have sent her. She’s not one of us.”

 

“Oh hush, she is as much as anyone can be who’s not born into it. She’s given us an heir after Euron dies, she knows more than anyone not born into can, and she hasn’t turned on us. She did well, Vic. She stood up to this asshole and gave him something to remember him by.” Asha shrugged. “I’m proud of her, and so’s Theon.”

 

“I suppose...” Vic cleared his throat as Theon began to stand, and Asha gave him a hand up. Castsellano was trussed up somewhat like an obese, ugly turkey, the chains loose enough that he could move, but tight enough that he couldn’t rise. Vic knelt and opened a trapdoor in the deck and, struggling a bit, pulled out an old rusted anchor. “This isn’t much, only twenty pounds or so, but between that and the chains it oughta do the trick.”

 

Theon’s grin was sharp as a knife, cutting even sharper when Castellano realized what Vic meant, and started to beg, blubbering and pleading like an overgrown child. He was still bleeding from the blows to his head and face, and the blood mixed with his tears, spit, and snot on the carefully polished wood. “Care to give me a hand, uncle?”

 

It was a strangely anti-climactic end to an obnoxious man. Struggling slightly, Victarion and Theon managed to hoist Castellano up to the rail and roll him, still screaming, into the salty ocean. Asha stepped over a puddle of blood to watch him sink, his piggish eyes wide and warped under the salt water. He’d sunk within seconds, the surface of the water giving no sign he’d ever touched it. Asha knew the waters here - they weren’t terribly deep, but the currents were strong and the sharks were plentiful. If anything of Castellano ever did surface, it’d be little more than a salt-softened bone shard on some remote beach up the coast.

 

“Feel better?” Asha glanced at Theon, not at all surprised to see his smile still firmly in place. He toyed idly with his wedding ring, spinning it on his finger as he gazed out at the sea. He looked at her, the sun playing off the sharp angles of his face.

 

“I do. Now turn this heap around, Uncle. I’ve got stuff to do tonight.” Theon reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a silver cigarette case, popping it open and drawing one out. He leaned against the railing, seeming at peace for once. Asha leaned over and kissed his temple, ruffling his hair.

 

“You did good, baby brother.”

  
She grinned and took the wheel herself while Victarion pulled the boat’s anchor up, easing the throttle forward when he gave her the all-clear. She wrenched the wheel around and headed into the setting sun.


	3. The Reward

It wasn’t the first time he’d killed a man, wasn’t even the first time he’d sent one to the bottom of the bay, but it was the first time Theon had felt perfectly at peace about it. It had felt _right_ , and he could tell from Vic and Asha’s reactions that they had felt the same way. Easing the Rolls out into traffic and away from the docks, he replayed the events in the boat in his mind. The beating he’d administered to Castellano had been vicious enough to leave blood spattered all over his face, arms and down the front of his shirt, but Theon knew it was what he needed to do to get out the overwhelming, all-encompassing rage he felt at the thought of Castellano’s sweaty hands groping Mya.

 

That night, the night she’d taken over his run while he was laid up in bed, Theon had been so antsy he’d been tempted to wake Rodrik and Quenton up and play a little Old Maid, just for something to do. Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that, but still, by the time she’d got home, he had been about to jump out of his skin. Then, when she’d told him what happened...well, he figured his sister would say it was a testament to how much he’d grown up that he hadn’t went to the bastard’s house and killed him right then and there, broken ankle or no. He’d stayed up half that night, and all the nights since, imagining another man’s fingers digging into Mya’s hips, breasts, thighs, marking her as only he ever had before, even though her skin was as white and creamy in the moonlight as it’d ever been. The thoughts had taken over his brain, making it nearly impossible to think of anything else. _Not any more, though,_ he thought, grinning at his own reflection in the rearview mirror and wiping a speck of blood from the scruff on his chin.

 

His ankle gave a sudden twinge as he shifted gears, and Theon winced. The damned thing still ached like hell, but he couldn’t stand to let anyone else drive him around, especially not for an errand like this one. _It’s over now, and it’s a beautiful night, and you’re going home to a beautiful woman..._ Theon saw Mya in his mind’s eye again: the smooth expanse of her back, those delicious dimples just above her perfect ass, the long, lean line of her legs. _All mine,_ he thought, imagining taking her on back stairs, the kitchen table, the shower...his cock was growing hard just thinking about it.

 

Thankfully, the drive was short; no more than ten minutes later he was turning onto their street, just in time to catch the street lights flickering on and-

 

“Fuck!” Theon slammed the heel of his hand down on the steering wheel, glaring at the Rolls Royce parked crookedly in front of his brownstone, a perfect match for his own. “Goddamn cocksucking motherfucking CUNT!” _How in the hell did you forget about poker night, you idiot?_

 

Theon parked in the driveway, not bothering with the garage door, and took a deep breath. A few immediate problems came to mind, some more pressing than others. He took a cursory glance in the mirror again and grimaced. There were no tell-tale spots of blood on his face, but his shirt was a different story. His cane, a relic from Robb’s grandfather, was sticky with blood as well, although he’d taken the precaution of tossing that in the trunk back at the docks. He’d just have to make it into the house without it then, Theon decided, grabbing his suit jacket off the bench seat and shrugging into it.

 

Limping up the front walk, he buttoned the jacket up, and hoped the dark spots on his trousers would go unnoticed. The steps were littered with toy soldiers and tanks, but Theon managed to pick his way through the mess while still clinging to the handrail, and stumbled into the house.

 

“Theon, is that you?” Mya’s voice called out from the kitchen, where he could hear the clink of ice in glasses and what sounded like Quenton reciting the poem he’d memorized for school. “C’mon back, sweetheart, Rosie’s just about to deal.”

 

“Get back here and get ready to get your be-hind spanked, mister!” Roslin trilled, followed by a chorus of giggles. Theon knew if he went to the kitchen, he’d find his own three children and Robb and Roslin’s five crowded around the table, hanging off the adults and waiting for him to come shoo them away. They loved when he and Roslin bickered, although Mya had once told him Quenton worried about him hurting Aunt Rosie’s feelings.

 

Making his way to the stairs, Theon called back, “I’ll give you a spanking, missy, just you wait! I’ll tan your ass good! And anyone who’s on your team gets one, too!” Flicking the buckle open, he yanked his belt off and doubled it up, snapping it sharply. He laughed under his breath when the children all screamed, the back door slamming as they raced out into the balmy summer evening. “Just let me change, I’ll be right down. Mya, doll, I could use a little help.”

 

“We were just getting ready to play gin rummy until you...” Mya stopped at the foot of the stairs, staring at him as he pulled himself up the steps. “Theon, what on Earth...why do you have your jacket all buttoned up like that? And where’s your cane?” She slipped an arm around his waist and Theon leaned on her as they went up the stairs, kissing the top of her head. She smelled like newsprint and lilacs, and a faint milky smell that told him she’d been holding baby Lya not long ago. It was a familiar scent, but no less heady for all that, and he wanted nothing more than to toss her on to their bed and have his way with her. Suddenly, he felt an elbow dig into his side. “Did you hear me? What is wrong with you tonight?”

 

“Shhh,” Theon pulled her into their room, nudging the door shut with a hip. “Nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything is perfect. Here, just let me...” He let the hand at her waist slide down over her ass, drawing her closer for a deep kiss. Their lips fit together perfectly, and he felt her tongue trace his mouth lightly before she pulled away, chuckling. “Oi, come back here, you!”

 

Planting a hand on his chest, Mya guided him gently towards his dresser. “Just get changed, would you? We’ve got company.” Then her fingers were on the buttons of his jacket, and Theon had just enough time to think _Shit!_ before Mya gasped, taking a step back. “W-what...Theon, you’re hurt! Oh my God, we have to-”

 

 _She’s too loud, Robb or Roslin will hear..._ Theon stepped forward and clapped a hand over her mouth. “No, no, I’m not, I’m fine. I’m fine, look.” He took her hand and pressed it to his chest, smiling at the way she tore through the buttons of his stained shirt and touched his bare skin, fingertips glancing across his scars. “See? Just fine.”

 

Nipping at the palm of his hand a bit harder than was necessary, Mya shoved him lightly. “You scared me half to death, damnit. If it’s not your blood, then whose is it? Do I even want to know?” Her voice was slightly shaky, but her hands were steady as she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and Theon noticed that they never left his body, as if she were still reassuring herself he wasn’t hurt. “Wait, tell me you didn’t...”

 

“Didn’t what?” He said, guiding her hands down to the fly of his pants with a grin. To his immense surprise, she unbuttoned it and eased the pants down over his hips, running a fingernail along the thick ridge of his hard cock in his boxers. Theon groaned, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck. “I’ll be quick, I swear. Just...God, I need you, Mya.”

 

“Theon...” His name was a breath leaving her lips, not a protest, but not agreement either. The way her hand wrapped around his cock was far more substantial, giving him a slow, twisting stroke. “Tell me what you did.” He didn’t answer right away, and she gave him a little squeeze, her teeth nipping at his collarbone. “Tell me.”

 

“I did what needed to be done,” he said, guiding her back towards the bed. “Nobody touches my wife like that and then goes around telling everyone-”

 

She cut him off with a kiss and a rough stroke, resisting being pushed onto the bed. “I told you to leave it, didn’t I?” Her words said one thing, but her tone said another, and Theon pulled back to look his wife. What he saw made his cock throb in anticipation; her eyes were dark, pupils wide with desire, and he could see her pulse racing in her throat. “I told you-”

 

Suddenly, the familiar creak of their bedroom door interrupted her. “Mama? D-dad? I just wanted...”

 

“Quenton, shut that damn door and go outside and play,” Theon managed to choke out, eyes locked on Mya’s. He could tell she was trying not to laugh.

 

The boy gave an audible sigh of disappointment, but closed the door without a word, his footsteps echoing down the stairs.

 

Mya buried her face in the crook of Theon’s neck, laughing even as she worked his cock with her hand and pulled him bodily back towards the bed. “That was a little harsh, Detective.”

 

“I don’t care, Mrs. Greyjoy. Now,” he let her push him down to sit on the edge of the bed, toying with the hem of her light cotton sundress. “Shall I, or do you want to do the honors?”

 

In response, she simply shimmied out of her panties and knelt astride his lap, smiling at the way his hips jerked upwards towards her. She was teasing the tip of his cock, keeping that wet warmth he craved just out of reach. “Quick, yes? Robb and Roslin are waiting. And I don’t really want a mess...”

 

Mya leaned back, reaching for the drawer where they kept a supply of rubbers, but Theon was having none of that, and too quick for her, besides. He didn’t want anything between them, needed to have her just like this. In one swift movement, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her down onto him, trying, and failing, to bite back a groan of pleasure.

 

Her hips rocking, Mya leaned in and bit Theon’s earlobe hard. “You don’t listen so well, do you?” He could feel her nails digging into the nape of his neck, perilously close to breaking the skin. “I _told_ you to leave it.”

 

Normally, Theon loved it when his wife took control, showed a little aggression...but not tonight. Tonight his blood was up, and he needed to claim her body with his, leave his mark on her. Twisting his body, he flipped her beneath him, never breaking their rhythm as he tangled a hand in her hair and pulled her head back roughly, whispering against her neck.

 

“And _I_ told _you_ , nobody, and I mean _nobody_ , puts their hands on a Greyjoy, on my fucking _wife_ , and gets away with it.” Mya gave a small gasp, and Theon felt her inner muscles clench around his cock...she was close already. Teeth sliding over a tendon in her neck, he tightened the hand in her hair. “That’s right, dove, you’re mine and you know it. Now come for me.”

 

Muffling a strangled cry against his shoulder, she did just that, her hips ratcheting up against his in a familiar, jerking rhythm. Mya scored his back with her nails and turned her head just far enough to sink her teeth into his collarbone, a familiar act that nevertheless made his smooth rhythm stutter. By the time she’d kissed and licked her way up his neck and covered his mouth with hers, Theon was right at the edge. All it took was a single whispered “Please, Theon...” against his lips to push him over; he came with an intensity that left him breathless and loose-limbed.

 

When he finally stopped moving against her, Mya nipped at his bottom lip and pushed him off of her, not ungently, but firmly. “Feel better now, do we?” Rising and smoothing her dress out, she bent to look for her discarded underwear, and Theon had a sudden urge to take her again, from behind this time. But the bed was so soft, and he was so comfortable...

 

“You know it, doll,” he said, stretching out with his hands behind his head.

 

Mya rolled her eyes. “Get up and get dressed, will you? You’re lucky Robb or Roslin didn’t come up here, we were making enough noise.”

 

“Maybe I wanted ‘em to,” Theon grinned, grabbing the plain white undershirt she tossed at him. “D’you ever think of that?”

 

“Please,” Mya’s laughter was muffled as she dug through the closet for a pair of his trousers. “I thought I was yours? You’re not a very good sharer...”

 

Tugging his boxers back up, Theon rolled over to his side of the bed, fishing around under it for the thin, drawstring pajama pants he’d worn the night before. “Ah, I’d share you with Robb, doll. Maybe with Roslin, if she asked real nice.” He came up from under the bed at the same time as she turned around with a fresh pair of trousers. “Leave the pants, I’ll just wear these...they’re nice and cool.”

 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Are you ready to play cards now?” Mya tugged him along by the drawstring of his pants, pulling him out of their room. “And you should apologize to Quenton, y’know...he didn’t know he was interrupting anything.”

 

“He’s old enough to know how to knock,” Theon grumped, following his wife down the stairs. “Besides, my pop never apologized to me for shit, and I turned out just fine...”

  
“Ha, that’s a joke!” Roslin said, overhearing the tail end of their conversation as they entered the kitchen. “The only reason you turned out halfway decent is because of Robb’s family and Mya. What on Earth are you wearing?”

 

Theon grinned and eased himself into one of the kitchen chairs, accepting the glass of whiskey Robb offered him. "Clothes. Would you rather I came down in the all together?"

 

"Ugh,  _no_." Roslin tapped the deck of cards against the table, knocking them back into true before shuffling. "No one wants to see that. And where were you, anyway? Robb said you left early."

 

Theon glanced at Mya, whose cheeks were bright red, and shrugged. "Just had a few errands to run. Nothing to get your panties in a wad over. Now, are you gonna deal or what?"

 

Roslin huffed and Robb chuckled. "Judging by that hickey on Mya's neck, pal, Rosie's panties aren't the ones we should be concerned about, now are they?"

 

Mya's hand flew to the offending mark, her eyes wide. "No, that's just...it's from the cat. He scratched me when we were upstairs."

 

 _Oh Lord._ Theon bit back his laughter. "Mya, dove-"

 

"Oh sure, it's from the cat." Roslin rolled her eyes. "Honestly Mya, your room is right over the kitchen. You two need a new mattress, by the way. Yours squeaks worse than a rusty screen door."

 

Theon leaned back in his chair while his wife sputtered and blushed and his friends laughed. He was quite content, really. The image of a bloodied and battered Castellano slipping beneath the waves played in his mind along with the memory of Mya's body beneath his, and he took another long swallow of whiskey.  _It was worth it._


End file.
